Chapter 34

Augusta gasped, but fortunately it was drowned out by Mrs. Drummond's shriek. The dark-haired stranger ran across the room to clasp Colin - Lord Bruxton's - hand and pump it vigorously. "Well done, old chap. Couldn't be happier for you." Then he turned to Augusta and took her hand, bowing over it with an elegance that was so overblown it made her smile. "Miss MacLeish, you are as gracious as you are beautiful. Bruxton clearly doesn't deserve you, but as his friend, I thank you for your benevolence to this sorry creature and wish you all the happiness in the world."
"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you, Dare? Behave yourself and get your hand off my fiancée." Colin stepped over to Augusta and drew her up close to his side. "Darling, allow me to introduce my closest friend, for some incomprehensible reason, Darius, the Marquis of Langston. Langston, this is Miss Augusta MacLeish, as you've surmised and yes, she's undoubtedly far too good for me. This good lady," he nodded to Mrs. Drummond. "Is a neighbor - Mrs. Drummond, I believe."
Lord Langston turned his attentions to Mrs. Drummond, fawning over her almost as effusively as he had over Augusta. "Absolutely enchanted, I'm sure. Such a lovely bonnet, madam. Surely you do your shopping in London, if not Paris. Certainly not out here in the provinces."
"Well, occasionally Edinburgh," the older woman admitted with a coy smile at Langston's practiced charms. "But you are correct, sir. This bonnet did come from an exclusive little milliner's shop in Town."
Augusta saw a look of understanding pass between the two men, as if they'd been trying to ascertain the length of Hortense Drummond's social reach. Aye. Word would make it to Edinburgh and then London within weeks that Augusta MacLeish, sister of Viscount Cairnwyck, had spent the night with a handsome, unmarried man. Marrying him was probably the only way to save her own good name and by extension, those of her younger sisters. Damn and blast. It was all his fault, the wretch. She'd cursed, at least mentally, more in the last twenty-four hours than in all of her past twenty-two years.
"So, darling, shall we see about that tea?" Bruxton shook her just slightly, breaking her out of her daze. "I'm sure your guests are feeling thirsty."
"Of - of course." She bobbed a curtsey at Langston and flashed what she hoped passed for a smile at Mrs. Drummond. "As you can imagine, I'm quite overwrought with excitement. Please excuse me while I see to the tea. Mrs. Drummond, if you could show the gentlemen into the parlor?"
Trying to control the shaking in her limbs, she nodded at all three of them, then spun on her heels and fled for the kitchen.
"It has to be before we leave Scotland," Colin argued under his breath. To satisfy Mrs. Drummond's need for propriety, Augusta had ridden into the village with the older woman in her gig, while Colin and Dare rode ahead on horseback. "If we wait any longer, she'll have time to talk herself out of it. Besides, she can't travel with me until after we're wed."
"No need to wait for banns up here, either," Dare reminded him cheerfully. "Can have the deed done this afternoon." Colin had no idea why Dare was so bloody happy about the forthcoming nuptials, but it was annoying as hell.
Colin snorted. "Except the vicar is at the same damned house party as Augusta's brother and sisters."
"Awkward that. Though do you really need a cleric in Scotland? Thought a blacksmith could do the job." Dare's dark grin taunted him. Not many people knew the brilliant mind that lurked beneath the dandified façade, but Colin would never underestimate Dare's insight or intelligence. He couldn't think of a better friend to have nearby in such a sticky situation, even if it was Dare's mouth that had gotten him into this mess to begin with. Still, as he remembered last night, the sight of Augusta's bare breasts, the way she'd melted in his hands, he couldn't dredge up too much resentment over his imminent leg-shackling. At least bedding her would be fun. Even the thought of sleeping with no one but Augusta for the rest of his life didn't seem like too great a hardship. Odd, when he'd never even contemplated that notion about any other female.
"Have you wandered off somewhere, old man? I was asking about a blacksmith."
Colin considered Dare's words, then shook his head. "I don't want her to feel like the marriage isn't real. No, I suspect we shall have to send for the cleric. And the children. She'll want them to be present, I'm certain."
"Sounds like you've already come to know the lady fairly well," Dare noted, with a wry smile playing around his lips and his brown eyes twinkling. "And you clearly respect her. This marriage may not turn out to be an unmitigated disaster after all, you know. I've never seen you think this hard about a woman in all the years we've been friends."
Since they'd met at the age of ten and that friendship stretched back nearly twenty years, Colin let himself speak honestly. "There is something about her, Dare. Something unique. I can't say I'm not looking forward to the wedding night and I don't think I'm going to mind looking at her face over breakfast for the next fifty years, either."
"There are worse ways to start a marriage, old friend." With that, Dare clicked to his horse and moved into a canter, rendering further conversation impossible.